


Fading Resilience

by SapphireIsle92



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon, Character Development, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gallavich, Intimacy, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mild Angst, One Shot, POV, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireIsle92/pseuds/SapphireIsle92
Summary: This is a one shot that takes place the night before Terry catches them together, when Mickey invites Ian over to his house and shows how they spent their time. <3***Mickey and Ian have been getting closer lately and Mickey has been letting down his guard more and more. When he invites Ian to spend the night, even more happens between them that Mickey definitely hadn't predicted.





	Fading Resilience

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo, new work for ya! :)  
> So, this piece is kind of a sequel to another work of mine, "So Many Little Slips," so, it may be worth reading that one first. But I think this fic also holds pretty well on it's own.  
> I am still editing, so please ignore my typos!  
> I'd love to know what you think! :)  
> Please enjoy! :)

He kissed him. Mickey had finally fucking kissed him and now he just couldn't seem to get it off of his mind. When it had finally happened, he hadn't even been sure he'd be able to work up the nerve to finally do it at all. It was something that had been weighing on him, really weighing on him, an urge that began heavily hanging in his chest as more time passed. Mickey had finally taken that leap, that plunge, that step into the terrifying unknown. He'd finally kissed Ian and there was no turning back. 

When he'd first gotten out of Juvie and discovered that the redhead had been fucking other people, it'd surprised Mickey and though he'd never dare admit it, it fucking hurt too. Though he also knew that he couldn't blame Ian really, not after the last time they'd seen each other and Mickey had spoken to him so terribly. He'd mocked, belittled and lied to Ian and he’d regretted doing so the instant he'd done it. But after scaring off the random boy he'd caught him with, Mickey had taken a chance, wanting and hoping they could start anew, that they could forget and move on, now that he was back. Ian seemed to take it, willing to do the same. So they'd immediately begun seeing each other again, in private, usually at night and never where anyone might find them, save for the cooler at work, of course. 

Ever since Ian had gotten him his job back at the Kash ‘N Grab upon his release, Mickey had really thought things had gotten back to normal between the two of them, or even really improved for the most part. They bantered, they talked, and they took as many breaks as they could to lock the store front and hide away somewhere in the back for a quickie during work. They were comfortable again. And for a while, Mickey couldn't have been happier about it. 

But then there was the day that Mickey discovered Ned Lishman, the day that pruny old queen had stopped into the store and he'd noticed the man leaned across the counter, speaking to Ian with a hushed tone and smirk on his face just when Mickey had finished up a deal. Then as he moved closer, he'd caught only a few words, but enough to string together what they were talking about and he suddenly felt the cold sting of jealousy stab him in the chest. 

For a brief moment, Mickey had even thought he'd heard the man wrong, knowing that there was an understanding between he and Ian that the redhead wasn't seeing anyone else, now that he was back. He'd known they'd never had a conversation about being exclusive, that he had no right to expect anything like that with the kind of relationship they had, the kind of relationship that wasn't actually a relationship at all. But Mickey had kind of still assumed such an understanding was there, even though it turned out that he was wrong. 

Ian had even thrown Angie in his face, like it was some sort of excuse, some kind of justification for this old, wannabe sugar daddy, grandpa motherfucker, like what Mickey had done was just as bad. That sting hurt too, even more than before, because he thought Ian understood, thought that he knew that girls like Angie didn't really mean anything to him, that they were a cover, simply for show and not at all what he really wanted. But apparently to Ian that didn't matter, because what Mickey had done had hurt Ian too. 

Though Mickey had still been too stubborn to admit his wrong, as much as he understood why Ian was upset with him, why he was seemingly going to continue seeing this man just to spite him and the rest of the day had been spent in a tense and frustrated silence. They didn't speak, nor hardly even exchange a glance after their confrontation and Mickey was simply seething by the time they were to leave. Then each man clocked out, and Ian left down a different way than he normally did, off to see Ned for what seemed to be a date and Mickey couldn't even begin to swallow his anger as he watched the redhead disappear down the street. He refused to give up so easily and especially not like this and against his better judgement, he snagged a six pack from the back of the shop before he took off down the street as well. 

As he stood across the street from the Fountain, Mickey drank his beer and stared hard through the window at the pair seated closely together at a little table inside the club, watching as they exchanged smiles and glances that made him sick to his stomach. He hated what he was seeing, but he couldn't look away, downing another beer and getting more and more pissed off the longer he watched. But as he peered the short distance across the street, Mickey also noticed something else, something about the expression on Ian's face and how his jaw set stiffly when he smiled that made it appear forced. This suddenly made him realize that the redhead may not actually be quite as interested in the older man as he'd first appeared to be, and this realization simply fueled Mickey all the more, wanting to stop this all before it had a chance to go any further. 

When Mickey had his chance, he took it quickly and easily, needing and wanting absolutely any excuse to take his aggression out on this man, to leave an impression on him and scare him away. He wanted this man to leave Ian alone and never speak to him again. When Ned had referred to Mickey as Ian's boyfriend, he hadn't so much been upset at the term as defensive, but it made him even angrier that this man seemed to have known about Mickey and still pursued Ian anyway. So he gave it to him, made him feel his rage, made him hurt, sent him a loud and clear message that Ian was his, to stay away and he didn't give a shit what else this asshole thought about it. And fuck, it felt good to do.

Then when he ran off, Ian didn't think twice to leave the man behind, to follow him, because he always did, something that Mickey couldn't force down and hide the smile that it gave him and he didn't want to anyway. They'd laughed and wrestled and chased each other through the alleys for blocks until Ian had finally caught him, pinned him against the cold, rough brick of some building and fucked him senseless against it. After that, with no prompt at all from Mickey, Ian had promised him that he wouldn't be seeing Ned anymore, but they didn't speak much else about it. And then things started to seem good again and Mickey was grateful, calmer, he was happy again. 

Ian was the one good thing that Mickey had, the only person he's ever been able to attempt to be his real true self with, the only person he'd ever experienced such an intense level of intimacy with, and he would do absolutely anything it took not to lose him. Even if it was still difficult for Mickey to give him everything, still nearly impossible to actually _be_ everything the other man ever wanted, he was trying. Fuck, was he trying with everything he had. But Mickey still needed time. 

Then one afternoon just recently, Ian had text him, asking if he could help him train, if he'd come keep him company while he ran through a course he'd thrown together in one of the abandoned buildings they often hung out at. The redhead had been doing that more and more lately, and Mickey tried not to dwell at the reminder that Ian still wanted out, still had plans to do something with his life, plans to perhaps leave Mickey behind. So whenever Ian asked to get together, Mickey always made time, because a part of him always wondered just how much time they had left.

But on this particular day, Ian spoke of Ned, asked him to help rob the guy's house. And Mickey, quite excited and intrigued at his own thought of retribution of some sort was quick to jump on it, quick to agree. He'd help Ian with just about anything and all he ever had to do was ask. Then there was a thought that had nagged at him, and Mickey had finally swallowed his pride and gathered his courage enough to ask, wondering what the redhead saw in this older man, what had made him worth the time at all. And then Ian had sprung the very same thing on him that he always did. 

‘He's not afraid to kiss me,’ the words cut deep and burned, like a red hot poker being twisted inside his guts, unable to respond, unable to retort, because Mickey couldn't argue with that. But the longer he thought on it, more and more as he did now in recent days, Mickey had begun to think that he'd finally had enough and he wasn't going to be afraid anymore. 

So when the day came that they pulled up to the old man's house and Mickey strode up the front walkway with his brother and cousin, he claimed to have forgotten something, then ran on the adrenaline he had pumping through his veins and went for it. Mickey kissed him, just for a second, right on the lips. He actually fucking kissed him and no one saw, the world didn't stop and he didn't regret it. Fuck, even save for the fact just a short while later he would run out of that house with a bullet in his ass, Mickey didn't fucking regret it, not for a second. If a kiss is what Ian needed from him, to show him what he could not say, that there was more between them, that it all meant something to him, Mickey would do that. 

He even faced another fear, one that Mickey honestly felt was long overdue, but that still didn't make facing it any less nerve wracking. Just earlier today when Ian had informed him that he and his siblings had been removed from their household by CPS and that he and Lip were now placed in a juvenile housing unit, Mickey couldn't really pass up the opportunity any longer. He didn't want Ian staying in a place like that if he could help it, knowing first hand himself just how difficult and soul draining those kinds of places were. Mickey knew he wouldn't able to sleep well tonight thinking about Ian being stuck in there, not when he could invite Ian to come stay with him instead. Especially since his father was away right now, he really didn't feel like much else could stop him. So, that's what he did and now here they both were. And just like before when Mickey had kissed him, the world hadn't fallen apart, nothing awful had happened and he was happy again, with Ian by his side. 

They sat together on his couch, a little closer than they normally would in front of anyone else, but since they were alone, they both settled in easily. By now, the pair had gone through three action films, a twelve pack of beer, and almost four packs of smokes, along with most of Mickey's weed and were now sporting cocky, competitive grins, slinging trash talk back and forth as their virtual characters clashed together within a video game. Now it was comfortable, really fucking comfortable, more than Mickey ever thought it could be and he couldn't seem to regret this either.

Ian held a smile with a burning cigarette pinched tight between his lips and he laughed as he struggled to maneuver his avatar around Mickey's and escape the grasp the other man's character had on his. Mickey flashed his eyes toward him, bit down on his lip and arched his brow sharply in focus, then lifted the redhead's avatar up into the air, just before ripping him in half. Ian's jaw dropped and he let out a groan, to which the other young man simply laughed, set down his controller with the end of another round, then reached to snatch the smoke now dangling from Ian's lips and inhaled deep. 

“Suck on that, Firecrotch,” laughed Mickey, then blew a cloud of smoke out above his head, “And you were talkin' all that shit after the last fuckin' match, now look at ya,” he pointed toward the screen at the redhead's virtual dismembered corpse that lay bleeding out in pieces on the floor and chuckled again, “Don't fuckin' think you're gettin' back up this time, man,” Mickey smirked, then took a sip from his beer bottle atop the coffee table, causing the other man to roll his eyes as he turned his face to look at him. 

“I beat your ass in the last round,” Ian reminded pointedly, smugly, smirking back just the same and Mickey scoffed as he took another sip of beer. 

“Bullshit,” he said, then arched a smooth eyebrow at him, “I just let you fuckin' win,” chuckled Mickey, then tipped his chin back toward the screen, “Sure as shit didn't let ya win this one though,” he cracked. The redhead pressed his lips together over another grin, watching the other man as he sucked in another puff of smoke, then blew it out, just before he reached over to snatch the cigarette right back. 

“Just luck,” Ian offered with a shrug, to which Mickey simply scoffed again as he set his beer back down.

“Just skill,” corrected Mickey with the very same, buzzing, hazy grin still stuck to his face, earning him another laugh from beside him and he raised his eyebrows high with surety, “Don't try to downplay my shit just cause you fuckin' suck,” he laughed, causing the other man to flip him off.

“That's what you fucking think, huh?” challenged Ian with a brow raise of his own, then tossed his controller down amongst the clutter of the coffee table, “Fuck the game, I'll take you right now,” he said, his own smile and gaze hazy from their consumption as well. Then Mickey laughed again and tipped his chin as he reached to grasp the cigarette once more. 

“Ah yeah, threatenin' the motherfucker who's got an ass full a buck shot,” Mickey quipped back, then pulled a drag with a very sarcastic nod, “You're real fuckin' tough, man,” he chuckled, but the redhead just held up his chin and set his shoulders back. 

“What, are you scared, Mick?” Ian taunted in a playful tone, while the other man continued to peer right back over at him appearing completely unfazed, “Scared I might actually have an upper hand on you because of that?” he teased. The other man pushed another laugh through his teeth at the redhead's empty threat, then exhaled another puff of smoke as he leaned forward to crush the filter into an ashtray. 

“You know that I'm not fuckin' scared of you for a single fuckin' second, Gallagher,” replied Mickey, which may have actually been one of the biggest fucking lies he’s ever told on so many different levels of the word, but still split another cocky, confident smirk, “Don't matter what the fuck you try to do. I still know you're just a sore ass fuckin’ loser, whether you admit the shit or not,” he grinned widely, then sat back more snugly against the couch and swatted a hand toward him in the air, “So look somewhere else to stroke your fuckin' ego, man,” advised Mickey, “Cause I ain't fuckin' bitin'.” 

Then in that instant, their eyes locked with the same silently challenging expression etched into both of their faces, with Mickey laid back, looking fairly relaxed as he held his grin with straight white teeth and Ian biting his tongue behind his cheek and rolling his jaw around as if he were fighting from letting another laugh slip out. Then the redhead pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, just before raising a single eyebrow as his own grin suddenly split widely across his face as well. 

“I'll show you who’s a sore ass loser,” said Ian, causing Mickey's eyes to widen with surprise as he almost instantly lunged across the couch to try and manhandle him. 

Ian shot through the short space like a bolt to wrap his arms around the other man's body, trying to pin him, but despite Mickey's still freshly healing injury on his backside, he instantly struggled against him and fought back, refusing to let the redhead climb his way on top of him. First he just tried to push him off, even swinging a kick up toward his chest, but Ian just shoved the other man's foot away and scrambled to press closer. So Mickey wrapped an arm around his neck to try and clasp him inside a head lock and held Ian's face tight against his chest. Ian squirmed within his grasp but couldn't get away and Mickey laughed as he struggled. 

“See, you're really not as fuckin' tough as you think you are,” Mickey observed smugly, tightening his hold around him as Ian wriggled against him a little harder, “The fuck are you gonna do now, Gallagher?” he queried with a mocking chuckle. 

But then he felt Ian's hands shift between them and suddenly began gripping and tickling into his sides, causing Mickey to release his hold as he erupted in laughter, then tried once more to shove the man away. 

“Aye, aye, aye!” hollered Mickey as each man's hands scrambled, pulled and shoved at each other and Ian just kept trying to tickle him, “The fuck ya doin’?” he laughed, “That ain't fuckin' fair, you tricky, cheatin' prick!” he struggled and shoved him again, causing the redhead to laugh as well. 

“Did I find your kryptonite, Mick?” Ian grinned with amusement, shoving the man back just as hard, then tried once again to crowd into his space, “All I have to do is fucking tickle you to make you lose your focus?” he cracked as he wiggled and waggled his fingers back at him, “Aw, that's too fucking easy,” laughed Ian. But Mickey simply split another smirk and arched his brow at that, because he'd already had enough of Ian's shit. 

He pushed Ian back again, harder this time, causing the man's body to be hurled back against the couch and Mickey took the opportunity to capitalize on the situation, moving to be the one that climbs on top of Ian instead. Mickey pinned Ian's hands beneath his legs and sat in his lap, then instantly gave the redhead a taste of his own medicine. 

“Did you fuckin' think that I can't turn this shit around on you?” smiled Mickey as he jammed his hands under Ian's arms and began tickling them down his sides, “Better fuckin' think again, man,” he said. 

Ian threw his head back against the couch in an explosion of laughter, still attempting to wiggle, struggle, kick and flail to absolutely no avail as the boy on top of him remained relentless in his movements. The redhead fought hard against the other man's strength, but just couldn't manage to budge much and Mickey laughed right along with him as he held him pinned. Then Ian met his eyes with a very mischievous gaze to which Mickey crinkled his brow, just before he leaned his face forward, hunched a bit and sank his teeth down into his chest. 

“Ow!” Mickey bellowed, twisting his body away and stared at the man beneath him in wide eyed disbelief, “Did you just fuckin'-?" he began, but was interrupted when the redhead ripped a single arm out from underneath his leg and reached around to grab Mickey's wounded ass cheek that made the man practically howl at the unexpected shot of pain. 

He sat up further onto his knees, ready to swing down at the redhead on instinct from his cheap shot, but Ian took advantage of his movement, prying out his other arm to shove the man off of him and back down onto the couch. Then when he landed, Ian was immediately back atop him and they began wrestling around again.

“Dirty fuckin' fighter, Gallagher,” Mickey grumbled through his teeth, unable to stop himself from smirking at the redhead's gaul as much as his ass fucking hurt from it now and twisted his fists inside Ian's shirt, “Think I'm just gonna fuckin' take that shit from you lyin' down?” he asked rolling his tongue behind his lip, but Ian just smirked at him and offered a very flirtatious waggle of his eyebrows. 

“I think you'll take whatever I fucking give you, however I want you to take it,” Ian replied confidently, very matter-of-factly and gazed right into Mickey's face as he said it, then licked his lips as he pinned his limbs down beneath him, “And you'll fucking like it too,” he stated surely. 

Mickey blinked, but held his eye contact as the other man's words and tone nearly sent a shiver down his spine in response, slowing his movements and pausing for a second. Sometimes he really fucking loved the way Ian could turn like that, acting careless and playful one minute, then serious and lustful the next. And that look, that gaze, the way the redhead seemed to peer right through him in a way that no one else ever could, a way that made Mickey feel wanted, yet vulnerable in the best fucking way. He bit his tongue atop a shudder as he let his eyes trace ever so delicately over the features of the other man's face, wanting him, needing him, then swiped the tip of his tongue across his lip. 

“Lemme see you fuckin' try, man,” dared Mickey, inviting the man to do his worst. 

At that, Ian suddenly pulled a smirk from his lips that appeared so excited, that it almost looked sadistic, then sank his face back down toward Mickey's body to bite him again on his ribs in a quick, sharp snap. Mickey let out a gaspy, grunty groan and twisted his body again to free his hands, just before fisting them both inside a bright shock of red hair and pulled Ian's head back to look at him again. 

“Why the fuck you gotta bite me for?” Mickey asked with an irritated scrunch to his face, really trying to sound and appear like he was actually complaining, but the other young man just flashed him another grin that he didn't buy his tone in the least. 

“Because I know how much you like it,” said Ian. 

Mickey bit his lip over a rather pleasurable groan and his eyes hooded from the man's words, feeling as a hot rush of blood began pulsing through his body and pooled inside his pelvis, slowly filling up his cock the longer he gazed. Then he watched Ian lick his lips once more and dip his face again to bite a little lower, causing Mickey's fingers to curl within his hair and he tried not to let his breath shake as he exhaled, letting Ian move lower still. 

Ian placed a bite that was a little softer along the side of his stomach, slowly pressing his teeth into the flesh beneath his shirt just slightly before covering it with a kiss and Mickey tried to fight off another shudder at the sensation of the other man's hot, damp breath against his body. Then he felt him shift closer, pressing his body into the space between Mickey's legs and placed another kiss in the same spot as a single hand curled around his hip. Mickey couldn't seem to tear his eyes away as his lips stayed parted and he let slip a series of short, but heavy gaspy breaths with each and every touch Ian gave him and it simply felt incredible. 

Then Ian bit him again, causing Mickey to force down a flinch and muffle another groan, just before the redhead smoothed a hand up toward his stomach to pull his shirt up just a bit. And Mickey let him, the way he almost always did now, as Ian seemed to want to touch him more and more every time they were together, each time they were intimate and he did so, because despite the fact he'd never say, Mickey enjoyed the contact just as much as Ian did and never truly wanted to stop him at all. 

The way Ian's lips felt against his skin was always indescribable, like static and sparks, lightning and flames, every peck and pucker a tiny, focused burst of euphoric pleasure, like little explosions of electricity that never failed to send a shivery wave of tingles radiating across his pores. Fuck, Mickey loved it, much more than he probably should have and still he just watched, blue eyes tracing the soft, loving features of the man still kissing deeply into his skin as he moved even lower and Ian's chin brushed over the button of his jeans. Ian lifted his gaze when he did, seeing the dark haired man still peering down at him, then curled his tongue through parted lips, causing Mickey to exhale over the smallest possible moan. 

“Fuck,” Mickey breathed in a whisper as his fingertips gently caressed the scalp beneath Ian's hair and he slid his tongue back across his lip. 

Ian smiled just a bit as green eyes flickered between blue just before dropping and he kissed him again, softly, slowly just before he wrapped his palm around the hardened bulge inside Mickey's jeans with a firm, but gentle grasp. Mickey bit his lip again, forcing himself to swallow another small moan and he lightly rolled his hips beneath Ian's hand as he rubbed over his cock trapped behind the denim. He felt Ian smile into another kiss against his skin, then opened his mouth to slick his tongue into a circle as his hand rubbed a little harder, and then his fingertips began fumbling lightly with the button of Mickey's pants. 

There used to be a time when Ian would ask Mickey for permission before trying to give him a blow job, but he never asked anymore, not only because Ian had gotten better at reading him now, knowing when he'd want one, but Mickey also never turned him down anymore either. In fact, sometimes, Mickey had even become the one asking for them, even if he'd still never worked up the nerve to reciprocate. But Ian never seemed bothered by it and it never seemed to stop him from doing it for Mickey every chance they got. And he'd watch him more, discovering that he quite liked watching him actually, even trying his best to remember the images of the redhead with Mickey's cock down his throat so he could use them to get off again later when he's alone. 

Now was no different, as Mickey's gaze stayed glued, watching every little movement Ian made, seeing as long, thin fingers unfastened his jean button, pulled down his zipper and began tugging at the fabric of his pants, trying to ease them down some. It was an addicting sight and Mickey only wanted more, raising up his hips just slightly to let Ian do what he wanted, because he wanted it too. Ian then pulled the front of Mickey's boxers down so he could grasp a hand around his thick, hard cock and began to stroke him out of his clothes. 

Then Ian flashed him another small glance just before he wrapped his lips around the head of Mickey's cock and began to gently suck on it as he stroked. Immediately Mickey's breath fell heavy and his teeth sank back into his lower lip as the tight, wet heat of the other man's mouth closed around him and sank a little further with every bob of his head, taking him in a little more each time. Mickey combed his fingers through the short, red hair atop Ian's head with a single hand, silently wishing there was still more to tug on, then smoothed the other down the side of his face, along his neck, then grasped tightly into the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades. He closed his eyes for just a second as a soft, quiet melody of curses and moans began to flow from his lips, causing him to let his head fall back with a sigh. 

As Ian sped up his motions a little more and began to hum, Mickey's eyes pressed tighter, his breaths and moans got louder and his hand began twisting more tightly into Ian's shirt, just trying to hang on. Then Mickey opened his eyes and tipped his head back forward, needing to gaze down on him again and watch the man work his mouth and throat in such an amazing way that always made Mickey's legs tremble and shake every time he did it. He watched as pink, swelling lips slicked wet with a pucker as Ian's cheeks hallowed every time he pulled up, then pulled tight and swallowed as he slid his mouth back down. And he let himself watch, let himself enjoy it, because there was nothing else like it. 

Then Mickey caressed the tips of his fingers back into Ian's scalp, then used his other hand to grasp and rub at the cloth covered muscles along the redhead's back, wanting to touch him, feel him, appreciate him more while he could. His first hand slid from Ian's head, down the back of his neck, then slipped it beneath his shirt, and Mickey let his palm rub rather tenderly over hot, smooth flesh, then gave the fabric that clung over it a quick and forceful tug. 

“Take your fuckin' shirt off,” Mickey directed quietly through a breath, to which Ian swallowed around him with another hum, just before he arched an intrigued eyebrow and pulled his mouth back to meet his gaze. 

“I will if you take your pants off,” offered Ian with a smirk and Mickey saw no reason to argue. 

Ian sat back, then reached behind his head to peel off his t-shirt, while Mickey pulled down his jeans and boxers the rest of the way, then kicked them off his feet and on to the floor. Then Mickey grabbed his cock to stroke it some as he let his eyes trace over the thick, meaty muscles of the redhead's chest and watched him resettle back between his legs. Ian laid his stomach back down along the couch, then caught the other man's cock with his mouth, causing him to let go and pass the lead back to him. The pant quickly returned to Mickey's voice as he let his hands slide over Ian's bare back, just until the redhead attempted to slide his own hands under his ass to grab his hips and accidentally rubbed a palm over the injured area on one side and he jumped with a sudden wince.

“Argh!” Mickey groaned through his teeth, “Fuck Gallagher, be careful,” he warned a bit roughly, not wanting the pleasure of the other man's tongue and mouth to be deluded by any pain. Ian pulled that hand back, then placed it atop his thigh instead, and met his eyes in a very apologetic way. 

“Sorry,” said Ian. 

Mickey honestly hadn't intended any malice behind the comment, more just speaking in reaction to the sudden uncomfortable jolt that'd shot through his ass. But he knew it was an accident, that Ian hadn't meant to hurt him, because he never meant to hurt him and the expression on his face showed Mickey just how bad he felt. He didn't want Ian to feel bad though, he never did and raised a hand to his face in silent reassurance, letting his thumb brush gently against his cheek, his gaze soft and open. Ian seemed to soften himself the way Mickey looked at him and it felt good for Mickey to see, glad that he could do that to Ian, in some way. 

Then Ian turned his face back down to take Mickey in his mouth again, causing the other man to simply try to not melt into a puddle. He peered down as the redhead swallowed him all down, the tip of his nose meeting with soft, black curls at the base of his cock and his hand kneaded deeply into the pale flesh of his thigh. Mickey moaned more deeply, wanting Ian to hear him, wanting him to know just exactly what he was doing to him, how fucking spectacular it felt in everything he did. He grasped his fingers against his scalp, then gave his shoulder a slow, tender rub as Ian took him deep once more. 

“That feels so fuckin' good,” Mickey whispered, no longer finding any fear in voicing it, not when they were alone and not when they were like this, then he bit his lip and moaned again, “Always suck my cock so fuckin' good,” he breathed with praise, desperately resisting the urge to roll his hips again. Ian sucked a tight, wet slick up Mickey's length, pulled it from his mouth to stroke, then kissed the flesh of his hip as he spoke against his skin. 

“I love the way you taste,” Ian confessed in a deep lustful tone, then sucked the tip of Mickey's cock back into his mouth and rolled it beneath his tongue, before pulling off again to suck wetly over two of his fingers instead, “And I love the way you feel,” he added as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, replaced them with the thick, hard cock that still stood in front of him, then traced them up along the crease of Mickey's ass, finding his opening and beginning to rub with slick, wet digits. 

Mickey let another moan escape him as he felt Ian's fingers press against him, rubbing him, teasing him and beginning to ever so slightly push in a little further. Then Ian rippled his tongue and hummed as his head sank back down into Mickey's lap, vibrating his palate as he deep throated him, causing the man above him to groan thickly with pleasure and he shut his eyes again. Mickey fucking loved it. 

Then Ian pressed his fingers a little further, pushing just the tips inside of him and swallowed around his cock as he did, pushing another breathy moan up from Mickey's chest as he let his legs open a bit wider. The redhead read his motions, letting his eyes flutter back up to Mickey's face, then watched as his brow creased a bit when he pushed his fingers deeper. The dark haired man nearly hissed through his teeth, then let his head fall back again, not wanting Ian to see his face as he tried to contain the lust drenched expression that threatened to break free from it just as the redhead's hand began to move his fingers in and out of him. It was almost just too much. 

It wasn't often that the two of them fooled around facing each other like this, the last and really only time being just before Frank had walked in on them, and Mickey had gotten himself thrown back into Juvie shortly after. But it wasn't because he didn't want to look at Ian, want to see him during their intimacy, just that he was still nervous to let the man see him, to observe him in a way that no one else ever had and no one else probably would. And that was scary, really fucking scary, no matter how much else he'd grown to let himself be comfortable with. But as he opened his eyes and gazed back down at the redhead between his legs once more, Mickey didn't feel afraid, not right now and didn't look away when Ian met his eyes again. He felt safe. 

Mickey's hand moved from Ian's shoulder to cup the back of his neck, lips parted with a pant as he very gently began thrusting his hips up to meet each dip of the other man's head, helping him slide the thickness of his cock deeper into his throat. Ian's fingers pushed into him again as their eyes stayed locked, then sped up just a bit as Ian gave his wrist the slightest twist, pulling a grunty, groany, sigh out of Mickey. Ian opened his mouth wider, pushing Mickey's cock as far down as he could before pulling back to whisper again through red, plumping lips, twisting his wrist again as he did. 

“You like that, Mick?” Ian asked quietly, still watching the other man's face as soft, needy moans continued to spill from his lips and Mickey sighed again. 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed, absolutely loving the feeling of any part of the other man inside him, then bit down firmly on his lip once more, “More,” Mickey pleaded softly, bending his knees some and pushing his ass down, “Give me more,” he said. 

Ian smiled as he slipped his fingers out of him to wet a third, then pressed them back inside, earning him a heavy, eager grunt from Mickey in response, letting Ian see just how much he really enjoyed it. He gazed at Ian like he wanted to devour him and the redhead seemed to enjoy that look, arching his eyebrow again and licking his lips just before he sucked Mickey's cock back into his mouth and kept his fingers moving. Their eyes stayed connected, the contact relaxing Mickey a little more that he willed himself to keep his expression open, still willing to let Ian see him and let himself be vulnerable and exposed because he knew the redhead not only enjoyed seeing him this way, but he never took it for granted either. 

Ian smoothed a single palm up over Mickey's stomach and underneath his shirt to rub at the muscles of his chest while he watched him, swallowed him, fingered him, seeming to simply love every little sound and breath he made. Mickey felt his insides slowly begin to pulse and quake just the softest bit and breathed out another deep, heavy moan as his eyes fluttered closed from the rising intensity. 

As Mickey's eyes clamped shut, he focused on every sensation the other man sent flooding through his body, relishing the hot, wet heat of Ian's mouth, along with the soothing sting of pressure he felt as the redhead's fingers continued to push into his ass. They didn't usually engage in much foreplay beyond a simple blow job, but this, Mickey could definitely get used to this, rather enjoying the time that Ian was taking to relax his body and work him open patiently, like they had all the time in the world. In this moment, he wasn't sure why he'd resisted it so long, because it just felt too fucking good. 

Then he felt Ian shift and his hand disappeared from his chest, followed by the softest, faintest clinking of a belt latch being unbuckled, causing Mickey's eyes to flutter open and gaze back down at Ian. The redhead had one hand in his lap, undoing his pants as his other stayed moving inside Mickey’s ass and his mouth still slicked and swallowed along his length and pulled out his own cock to grasp and stroke while he pleasured him. Mickey licked his lips as he watched him, extremely turned on by the fact that he'd aroused Ian so much, he could no longer bear to leave himself untouched, then combed his fingertips back through his hair and let out the softest chuckle. 

“You're such a fuckin' faggot,” teased Mickey, to which Ian simply opened his eyes, split a small smirk, then arched his eyebrow as he raised his face some to reply. 

“Says the guy who has my hand up his ass right now?” Ian quipped smugly in return. The dark haired man curled his tongue behind his lip, moaning softly from the other man's fingers still moving inside him, then very playfully pushed Ian's head back down. 

“No one fuckin' asked you,” said Mickey, earning him a laugh just before the redhead relatched his mouth upon his cock. 

Ian kept sucking Mickey off for quite a while, the pace of his fingers steadily growing as he did, pushing a little harder, trying to press deeper into the man, which pulled another breathy, slurry string of moany, groany curses off of the other man's tongue. Mickey grasped Ian's hair tighter as his hips rocked deeper into his mouth and further down on his fingers, knowing he'd soon be on the verge of cumming if they kept up much longer. The redhead stroked himself faster, humming more deeply as Mickey began to tremble again, lingering closer to the edge of release along with him, then slipped Mickey's cock from his mouth as he turned his wrist with another sharp twist. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” Ian breathed, then mashed his mouth into the soft, pale crevice between Mickey's cock and his leg to gently suck a little purple mark into a spot where no one would see, before he spoke against him again, “But I don't wanna hurt you,” he added, referring to the wound on Mickey's ass, knowing how rough they sometimes got and really didn't want to cause him any unwanted pain.

Mickey understood what Ian was saying, wanting the redhead to fuck him too, but also knew that in the morning, he'd probably regret letting Ian pound his hips against his ass for an hour and that by then, his gunshot wound would probably end up throbbing something fierce. And as nervous as he still usually was about it, Mickey could also tell by the way Ian was looking him that he was fighting the urge to simply crawl on top of him and take him just like this, facing each other, with Mickey completely open and spread out beneath him. Though with his tipsy, buzzing haze still coursing through his system, Mickey would probably have let him, if he didn't know how much it would hurt the next day. 

Then he thought of another option, one that Mickey thought he'd probably never consider, but within his current state of mind and body, the idea was quickly arousing him more and more, having a powerful hunch that Ian would probably enjoy it as well, then offered a chin tip toward the young man between his knees. 

“Sit back,” directed Mickey, then let go of Ian's hair and began to shift within his seat, “Take your fuckin' pants off,” he said. 

Ian looked a little confused, but didn't object or question him as he slipped his fingers from his ass and began moving backward to sit with his back against the couch, then pushed his jeans down to puddle around his ankles on the floor. Then Ian's expression turned to that of surprise as Mickey gathered his courage and very hesitantly moved sit atop him and straddle his lap. 

“Jesus,” Ian whispered through a shaky breath, slowly gliding his hands up the lengths of the other man's thighs, then settled on his hips. 

Mickey was still hesitant, still a little nervous, but refused to back down and take it back now. Their eyes moved together silently, mingling with heavy, eager breaths, just before Mickey dropped his gaze between them to land on Ian's cock, then reached down to grasp him. The gasp that escaped Ian at the contact almost instantly drew Mickey's gaze back up to see a lusty, aching expression etched into his face and he couldn't help but stare. 

Even though Mickey had gotten better at being responsive when he was with Ian, letting the man hear him and touch more than anyone else probably ever had, reciprocating physically was often still a bit of a challenge. He'd given him a few hand jobs before, sure, but not many. Grabbing another guy's cock just felt too close, too personal, way too fucking gay and he couldn't bring himself to do it often. But as he peered into Ian's face, seeing the pleasure and the shudders and the trembles that formed in the man, from just the slightest motion of his hand, it was hard not to want to do more often. Ian was responsive too, so suddenly and deeply enveloped into what Mickey was making him feel and he began to moan as he watched Mickey sitting on him, not even moving his body yet. And Mickey suddenly discovered that he quite liked this too. 

As Mickey stroked him, he brought his other palm up to grasp over the redhead's shoulder and Ian lifted his hips into the other man's motions, absolutely loving what he was doing to him and clearly wanted more. Their eyes stayed together and the longer Mickey watched, the more confident he became, rubbing his hand along the redhead's length a little quicker, a bit more firmly, then split a small smirk as Ian slowly seemed to fall apart at the seams.

“You fuckin' like that, Gallagher?” asked Mickey, earning him a deep, chesty hum and Ian gave a nod.

“So fucking much,” whispered Ian, then lifted his hips a bit to meet Mickey's grip and began rubbing little circles into his hipbones with his thumbs as he let his eyes fall down to the contact, “Still want you so bad though,” he said and Mickey smirked a little wider, leaning in close to speak through his still heavy breath. 

“Needy little bitch, eh?” he chuckled, to which Ian's hands only gripped him tighter. 

“Just for you,” replied Ian, his tone deep and shameless as his eyes fluttered back up. 

“Yeah?” said Mickey, then sat up on his knees a little higher and began to readjust, “Bet I got what you fuckin' need then,” he breathed, moving the head of Ian's cock further back to rub against his asshole.

Ian moaned more deeply from the contact and rolled his hips with anticipation, watching through glazed eyes as Mickey very wetly licked his own palm, then dropped it back down to smear over the head of Ian's cock and rubbed it back against his heat. The redhead’s brow creased thickly as his hands curled more tightly into the bottom of Mickey's shirt against his hips and his eyes traced so very intentfully over the other man's face, then down his body, the craving to be inside of him now simply overwhelming. 

Then Mickey met his eyes again, pausing, watching, as their faces hovered so very close together and he began to sit again, lowering himself onto Ian's cock in the most painfully slow way. And they each held their breath as Ian slid deeper and deeper inside him, neither wanting to wait any longer to connect themselves, until finally they both let slip soft, mirrored groans as he fully filled Mickey up. 

Mickey stilled for just a second, his expression drenched with lust and looked back into Ian's face as he rested his hands atop his shoulders, having never seen Ian in quite this way before, not since just before he'd gone back to Juvie. But this was different, closer, intimate, much more personal than it'd felt before, and Mickey began to move, slowly at first, watching as the redhead pushed a hiss out through his teeth. 

“Fuck,” Ian whispered through a trembly breath as his lip pulled down, flushed red with more pleasure as his cock began moving through Mickey's tight, wet heat and his gaze fell heavy again as the man's movements quickly pushed another moan up from his chest. 

Then as Mickey fell into a steady pace, he quickly began to feel even more comfortable than before, seeing how much Ian genuinely enjoyed what he was doing to him, the way he rounded his hips just a bit as he rode him, it caused him to speed up a little more and grasp at the muscles in his shoulders a little more firmly. Ian leaned his face forward in response, dipping his head and pressing his face into Mickey's chest, muffling his noise against him, then shifted his grasp up to move his hands a little higher. But when he did, Mickey didn't care, letting him, even enjoying the feel of the man's palms smoothing up under his shirt and onto his chest, then felt Ian begin teething at his collarbone and pushed his shirt up further. 

Mickey kept his motions steady and deep, moaning himself as well from the feel of Ian's long, hard cock sliding into his ass, then moved down on him a bit harder as he reached to pull his shirt over his head and dropped it atop Ian's on the floor. The instant he did, the redhead leaned back in, parting his lips, twisting his tongue and mashed hot, needy kisses into the smooth, pale flesh of the other man's chest, the sensation from his mouth earning him a heavy, wanting moan and Mickey raised a single hand to comb his fingers back through short, red hair. This was already becoming so much better than he ever thought it would be and Mickey didn't want it to stop. Then Ian raised his face again, seeing Mickey still watching him and gazed right back, his lips still wet, now swollen and his breath panted with each drop of the other man's hips. 

Suddenly there was something else that Mickey began to crave, an urge that he felt pulled by, to do something he had only ever done once, and only recently, something that still made him nervous and sometimes even scared him quite a bit whenever he thought on it. But Mickey had still done it despite his fears, and he wasn't afraid now, not at all, not with Ian gazing into his eyes the way he was. Then as his sight flickered downward to rest upon the redhead's lips, he licked his own with anticipation, wanting nothing more in the moment than to feel them again, taste them again, to kiss Ian as deeply and passionately as he could. He wanted it more than anything. 

So he did, almost immediately, pressing his chest into Ian's as he leaned forward and turned his head to clasp his lips through his, feeling himself almost instantly begin moaning into it as the redhead breathed out a surprised, but delighted hum through his nose. Then Mickey opened his mouth and so did Ian, letting their tongues slide together and mingle, to dance within the mix of their breaths as their kiss quickly turned more rough, more primal, like they each held an aching urgency behind their teeth and it felt simply electric. 

Ian smoothed his hands up the length of Mickey's back, leaving one to grasp a hold of the back of his neck as the other slid back down toward his tailbone, holding him close against his body. Mickey curled his fingers, lacing them through the short length of Ian's hair, then hooked the elbow of his other arm around the redhead's shoulders, holding him there as well just as tightly as their mouths and bodies became in sync, moving together with abandon. 

The redhead began to meet Mickey's ass more directly with his hips, thrusting up just slightly each time the other man dropped down, causing Mickey to grunt a bit harder and moan a little higher against his lips. Ian was obviously being careful, not wanting to hurt him, but fuck, Mickey liked it, even rolling his hips a little and sinking his ass down onto the other man's cock with more intention, hoping it would spur him on to thrust a little harder. But Ian just moaned pleasurably through his movements, staying steady and continued to hold him close, letting his eyes close as he nuzzled his face back into his chest. 

“Mickey,” Ian moaned as he mouthed tenderly at Mickey's pec, lips puckering over the thrum of his heightened heartbeat beneath, “Fuck, don't stop,” he pleaded roughly and Mickey listened to every word as he rode Ian further into the couch.

Ian wrapped one thick, strong arm around the other man's back, then lowered his other hand to grasp and squeeze at the undamaged area of Mickey's ass, who let him and moaned even louder when he did. Mickey then grasped at short, red hair and pulled his face back to indulge in his mouth again, parting his lips and pushing his tongue back inside. The redhead mirrored his movements, then squeezed his ass again, earning him another needy, breathy groan, forever wanting to feel all of him, just as much as Mickey wanted to feel him too. And to each other, they both felt incredible, they always did, drowning together within the haze, the static, the single plane of existence where there was no one else but them, ever. The dark haired man let one hand fall from the other man's shoulders to slide quite tenderly over his chest and curled it around his ribs as he kissed him, and parted his lips again with a pant. 

“Ian,” he whispered ever so softly, almost instantly slowing the redhead's rubs and thrusts, then opened deep, green eyes to gaze into soft, bold blue ones and blinked with disbelief. 

“What did you just say?” Ian queried, searching the other man's face, unsure if he'd actually heard him correctly, to which Mickey's eyes opened as well with the very same pause. 

Mickey had never called Ian by his first name directly before, not in anger, not while hanging out together alone and especially not during sex, no matter how long Ian had been hoping that maybe one day he would, not ever. But then he did, just now, the single word drifting off of his tongue almost like he hadn't actually meant to speak it at all. And like everything else Mickey had thought he might regret, that he thought he might be too scared to do, it was actually a lot easier than he'd anticipated, now honestly wanting the other man to hear him say it. Because fuck, Ian was everything. The dark haired man slowed his pace as well, fingertips curling and combing lovingly through his hair and he didn't look away. 

“Ian,” Mickey said again, the other man's expression quickly melting into an even happier one as he repeated it, like Mickey's voice had suddenly become beautiful music to his ears, watching his lips as he spoke the word. 

“Say it again,” the redhead directed, practically begging him to do so, like he still didn't quite believe it, to which Mickey couldn't help but smile just the smallest bit.

“Ian,” he breathed once more, and Mickey didn't think Ian had ever looked at him in such a touching way before, with appreciation, longing and gratitude, with fucking love in his gaze and the redhead pressed his lips against his own again. 

His movements became softer, more tender, and Ian seemed to say everything within that kiss that he couldn't say aloud, expressing every feeling that he suddenly felt in the more direct way that he could, then began moving under him again, pushing his cock deeply into Mickey's ass a little harder than before. And Mickey kissed him back, glad that he'd finally said it and mumbled out another quiet string of pleasing curses against his mouth, falling back into the pace they had before. 

There were grips at flesh and clashes of teeth as they began moving faster, rougher, like they were both dying of thirst and were now feverishly chasing a quench. Their motions became harder, Ian even shifting down a bit to grasp a tighter hold on Mickey's hips to thrust up into him better and Mickey didn't seem to care about the injury on his ass anymore, still dropping his body down just as hard to meet him with every push of the other man's cock. 

He wasn't sure if sex between them had ever felt so good, so right, so perfect. And as much as Mickey knew he may always have to hide, that Ian would probably always be his secret because having feelings for him that were anything more than platonic was supposed to be bad, supposed to be wrong, Mickey could seem to find anything wrong about this, not now. When they were together, they were magnetic, they fit and clicked like no one else Mickey had ever met or known before and it wasn't something he wanted to give up, not ever. And anything that Ian wanted from him, Mickey would give, he would do, he would show him in whatever way he could. Ian meant so fucking much to him and Mickey wanted him to know that. 

As Mickey bounced in Ian's lap and licked into his mouth, he pressed his body into him, slicking a slight sheen of sweat between them, then thrust toward his body as his ass moved back, rubbing the hard, thick length of his cock against Ian's abs and relishing the friction it gave him. Their lips hovered closely for a second with a sigh and Ian reached a single hand between them to grasp his cock and stroke him along with his thrusts, rubbing his thumb softly over the wet, leaking tip, shuddering the man above him. It wasn't that Mickey needed his hand to help him any, but he wasn't going to push it away either, still wanting Ian to touch him absolutely everywhere, because no matter where it was, Ian's touch just felt amazing. 

But then Ian shifted again, angling his hips a different way and thrust up into Mickey with another deep pound, causing the dark haired man to hiss and bite down on his lip to muffle a rather loud moan from the other man's cock as it began massaging the sweet, sensitive bundle of nerves hidden away inside. He gasped and groaned, absolutely loving it and bit down on Ian's lip instead, which only seemed to focus Ian's intent even more, pushing Mickey down by his hip to do it again. The dark haired man’s brow knitted together with a crease and he grasped a hold of Ian's jaw, sighing thickly through parted lips before he spoke again through his teeth.

“You're gonna make me fuckin' cum like that, man,” Mickey warned as Ian's cock began to throb deep within, causing his insides to begin quaking pleasurably from the action, “Fuck,” he moaned, then rolled his hips toward Ian's hand, feeling him grip more firmly as he stroked his palm along his cock. But Ian simply smoothed a single hand back up Mickey's back, clasping the back of his neck and held his face close to his own. 

“Then cum with me,” whispered Ian, pulling his hand a little quicker and gripping Mickey's neck a little tighter, “Cum with me, Mick,” he urged softly, then mashed his lips into a wet pucker against his neck, “I wanna feel you burst,” Ian moaned into a muffle against flushed, damp flesh, causing the other man to nearly shudder again from above him as they both teetered along the edge of release. 

Mickey soaked in Ian's words and began to move faster, moaning as the hot, slick, pulsating sensation from inside his ass starting radiating through the rest of his body, speckling his skin with flush of goosebumps that rippled along his pores. He could feel it tingling, rocking, rising like a ship upon a wave being pulled in with the tide and Mickey's muscles began to tense, his skin more deeply flushed, the closer he felt it coming. Then Ian’s muscles began to tense as well, riding the verge right along with him and his breath began to stutter through a pant as the fingers of a single hand grasped ever more tightly over the other man's hip. 

Mickey clasped a hand to Ian's chest, while letting his other slide down from his hair onto his shoulder and gripped his palms against him hard as he rode through a creased brow and burning thighs, then found Ian's lips again, wanting to taste him as he came. Then the rush of warmth and sparks and tingles began to overflow within them both and Mickey thrust back into Ian's hand with an almost whimpering moan as his balls pulled up tight, sending the most intense orgasm coursing through his body with a shudder. As white hot spurts burst out from the end of Mickey's cock, Ian groaned deeply with arousal, feeling his slick, wet shot splash down over his abs, then kissed him harder, moaning through Mickey's lips and let his own release escape as well. 

When Ian came deep inside of him, following Mickey's lead, Mickey's insides pulsed again, quickly becoming tender and sensitive until the redhead's orgasm slowly ceased and both their movements stopped. But they didn't part yet either, still breathing heavy, tracing fingers gently along sweat slicked skin and kissing each other much more softly now, slowly, intimately, like they simply didn't want to move, and they each felt more than spent. 

Mickey stayed seated, stayed close, not wanting to feel the man's body disconnect from his own just yet, savoring the stretch, the fullness, the completeness that the feeling always gave him, being with Ian like this, but never with anybody else. And as Ian still kissed him, still so very softly caressing his skin, rubbing his back, lacing thin, long fingers through his hair, he felt safe, secure and nurtured. Mickey felt fucking perfect and he didn't regret a thing. 

His resilience was fading, and every time that Mickey was with Ian lately, it seemed to fade a little more, slowly embracing how the other man made him feel and how much he wanted to be with Ian just as badly as the redhead wanted to be with him. And though Mickey knew that if it were to ever really happen, it would still take some time, take some more effort on his part especially, he didn't completely reject the idea as much he always used to. Maybe this could work, and this could be worth it, if they could only find a way. 

Then when Ian shifted again, laying his head back to rest on the back of the couch with his chest rising and falling as he slowly caught his breath, Mickey was pulled from his thoughts by a bright, satisfied smile spreading across his face. The redhead held his grin rather proudly, then arched a very smug eyebrow and tipped his chin toward Mickey. 

“Why did we ever wait so fucking long to do that?” Ian asked, then smiled a little wider, “You ride cock like a fucking natural, Mick,” he informed with honest praise, and although normally Mickey might be offended by such a faggy fucking compliment, in his current post orgasm haze, he couldn't help but smirk, then let out a laugh and playfully shoved the man's face away with his hand. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he said. 

Mickey leaned back, slowly lifting his hips to let the redhead's wilting cock slip out from his ass, then swung his leg over to sit beside him on the couch, leaning his head back to rest and breathe as well.

Then there was silence, quiet, a peaceful break from their excursion, sitting next to each other comfortably as video game music still wafted out softly from the television, until Ian turned to look at him with hesitation on his face. Mickey turned his face as well, meeting his eyes, reading his face and waiting for whatever he was going to say, though he had a hunch that he already knew. Green eyes blinked in thought, the longing and admiration still thick and heavy within their gaze and Mickey swallowed nervously as Ian's lips parted to speak. 

“Mick I-,” began Ian, then swallowed as well with another blink, “There's something I want to say to you,” he said, and Mickey definitely knew what it was, almost terrified that he might actually say it, chewing his lip as he listened, “Something that I want you to know,” he continued, speaking cautiously, quietly, still gazing softly into the other man's eyes, “But you don't have to say it back,” Ian assured, “Not if you don't want to,” he said, but Mickey was quick to stop him. 

“Please don’t fuckin' ruin this, Gallagher,” advised Mickey, not wanting to hurt the other man's feelings, but he just couldn't bring himself to hear the rest of his words, not now, “That's a conversation for another fuckin' day, man,” he said, “Okay?” 

Ian's disappointment was clear, but he didn't object, didn't push it and seemed to understand, at least a little bit. He offered not much more than a small nod in reply as he dropped his eyes and turned his face away. 

“Okay,” he accepted quietly. 

Mickey felt bad, he really did, but he just wasn't ready, not for that. He still needed time. But he also didn't want Ian to feel had, didn't want him to hurt, so he tried to reassure him in one of the only ways he felt he could. Mickey reached over to place a hand on Ian's leg and offered a gentle, tender rub of his thumb. 

“Aye,” he said quietly, to which Ian turned his face back to look at him, “Let's go to sleep,” offered Mickey, then flashed him a small smirk, “Got plenty of fuckin' room in my bed for the both of us,” he said, earning him the smallest smile from Ian in return, then raised a playful eyebrow, “As long as your big, red ass don't fuckin' push me out,” he added lightly, to which the redhead chuckled just a bit, seeming as though his mood had brighten back up some already, then gave his head a single, quick shake. 

“Can't make any promises,” grinned Ian, to which Mickey chuckled as well, then gave his head a flick. 

“Come on,” said Mickey and together they moved to rise from the couch, shutting off the television and leaving their clothes behind. 

Ian stopped in the bathroom to clean up a bit and Mickey crawled into bed to wait for him to finish. When the redhead came back, Mickey couldn't help but gaze at him through the dark, watching as he stepped closer, then moved to crawl beneath the covers as well. Then Ian sort of paused, like he wasn’t sure how to lay with him, slowly shifting into place near the wall, but didn’t make much move to touch him really, seemingly unsure if Mickey wanted to be touched or not. But Mickey just chuckled at him through the pitch, then reached for his wrist to pull on his arm, then rolled onto his side and wrapped the long, freckled limb around his waist. He heard Ian smile at that, then felt him scoot a little closer, tightening his arm more firmly around Mickey as he pressed his chest into his back and held him close as they both closed their eyes. 

As Mickey began to dose off, his mind was still wide awake, still busy, replaying their entire night inside his head, making him smile just a little where Ian couldn't see. Even laying like this, the intimacy of their position was not lost to Mickey, but he was still thankful that they were alone, in the dark, where no one else could see. Even if he often felt ashamed for his attraction to other men, for his attraction to Ian, he didn't feel that way right now, silently hoping that maybe one day he wouldn't feel that way at all. Being with Ian like this felt nice, felt easy, still just felt so right, even if it was meant to be so wrong. 

Mickey still didn't know where things would go between them, what they might become, perhaps a very long time from now. But he was still hopeful that maybe some day, somewhere, there could be a place for them where they didn't have to worry, didn't have to hide, where together they could be free. And even if it couldn't be now, at least there was still time.


End file.
